The Quest of the Warrior Sheep (15 page)

When the noise had died away and the helicopter was only a speck disappearing into the moonlight, they all suddenly felt very flat and down again. And very cold.

‘Well,' said Ida, leading the way into the barn. ‘That Neil's right, I suppose. It's the last we'll see of them. Or our money.'

The others followed, glad to get out of the night air. Luke took the stinking jacket off and dropped it outside. He didn't want to upset any more stomachs. Tony found a switch, and a neon strip hanging from the rafters flickered, then filled the barn with harsh white light.

‘It's all my fault,' he said miserably to Ida. ‘If I hadn't thought I'd seen a UFO abducting your sheep, those BARMI blokes wouldn't have tried to blow them up. Then we'd still have the evidence.'

‘It's not your fault, it's mine,' said Luke, even more miserably. ‘I should have guessed Neil was up to something when he bet I couldn't download bank data on to my phone.'

Ida patted him on the shoulder.

‘Well, so long as you didn't mean to steal from us, dear, we won't hold it against you.'

Luke felt even worse. ‘They're crooks, cheats, swindlers!' he said angrily. ‘And they're going to get away with it!'

‘I don't think so.'

Everyone turned to stare at Tod.

‘In fact,' he said, ‘I'm sure they're not.' And from
his pocket he took a small square of plastic.

‘The SIM card!' yelled Luke. ‘You've got the SIM card from my phone!'

‘I took it out before I gave the phone to Lady B,' Tod said. ‘Once I knew she wasn't going to shove you over the edge of the mountain, of course, Gran.'

‘All the bank details are on that tiny card?' asked Tony.

Luke nodded. ‘It'll also prove that Neil transferred them to his computer. And
that
will prove how he transferred the money on to Lady B.'

Ida stood back, beaming at her grandson for a moment, then threw her arms around him in a rib-crushing hug.

‘What a boy!' she yelled. ‘What a boy!'

Tod blushed scarlet. Tony punched the air and jumped up and down, laughing. Nisha laughed too and tucked the thistle Tony had picked for her more firmly into her hair.

The sheep watched with interest. Humans could be very peculiar sometimes. Then they remembered that they hadn't eaten since . . . they couldn't remember
since when. Oxo headed for the hay bales in the corner, then stopped suddenly. He sniffed. There was a smell in the barn he didn't like. Then he heard a noise he didn't like. Dog! Saffron slunk out from behind the hay bales, tail still between her legs, whimpering softly.

‘Saffron! I thought I'd lost you! Here, girl . . . It's all right . . .' Luke held out his arms and the dog instantly perked up. Her tail started wagging, the whimpers changed to short, excited little barks, and she hurled herself at the human she had come to regard as her own. The Warriors huddled together anxiously for a moment, but it was clear that this sheepdog was no longer interested in sheep.

Tod cut the string around some of the hay bales and the Warriors got stuck in. Oxo even ate the string.

When Tod went back and sat with the other humans, he suddenly looked worried.

‘I'm sorry, Luke,' he said. ‘I think when we give the SIM card to the police, they'll arrest you too. You'll probably go to prison.'

Luke shrugged. ‘I deserve it,' he said, ‘for being so stupid.'

‘No you don't,' said Ida. ‘We'll speak up for you.
And you're not stupid. Just a bit gullible, that's all. And there's plenty of that about,' she added, with a little smile that Tony didn't notice.

Luke smiled too. He hoped she was right. About prison. And about not being stupid.

‘But the bank won't want you back,' continued Ida. ‘So you'll have to find another job' She thought for a moment. ‘You're good with technology. My hens would probably like some video footage to go with their egg-laying music. D'you think you could manage that?'

Luke blinked.

‘And then there's Wills. He's an exceptionally bright lamb. I'm sure he'd like to become computer literate.'

Luke looked across at the small brown sheep, chomping hay, then wiped a tear of gratitude away with the corner of his T-shirt.

‘That should keep you going for a couple of months,' said Ida. ‘Till you get yourself straight again.' She paused. ‘And you can bring your non-sheepdog, if you like.'

Luke needed all his T-shirt for tears after that.

Nisha was busy dabbing at her mobile phone. She called the police. And then Organic TV, but only
about Neil and Lady B. She didn't mention the sheep. ‘They've been exposed to enough media attention,' she said. ‘They deserve some peace. You all do.'

Tony decided he loved her even more. He found another thistle amongst the hay. It was brown and prickly but Nisha put it in her hair with the other one just the same.

‘Oh,' she added with a mischievous smile, ‘and I've arranged some transport home.'

T
he dramatic arrest of Neil and Lady Babcott, when they stepped from the helicopter on to the roof of her house back in London, was the main news on television that night.

At Loch Glooming, Tony's Cousin Angus nodded wisely as he slurped his evening porridge and watched the news.

‘I knew wee Tony was up tae something,' he told his cat. ‘He's nae as daft as he looks.' Next morning, he and his cat had something else to talk about: a huge golden hot-air balloon was being inflated in the station car park.

Tony just stood and stared when he saw it. On the long walk back down from the mountains, he'd been wondering what sort of transport Nisha had arranged but never guessed it would be a balloon.

‘No aliens,' she said, teasing. ‘I promise.'

The pilot had thoughtfully provided a ramp for the sheep to climb up. Oxo was dubious.

‘Will there be in-flight snacks?' he asked Wills.

Then he glimpsed a large picnic hamper in one corner and trotted eagerly on board. The other sheep followed him, then Saffron and all the humans. It was a bit of a squash but nobody minded. Luke blushed and hid his face when the pilot explained, very clearly, that nothing, but nothing, must be dropped over the side. Not ever.

The gas burner roared and the great balloon rose into the sky.

‘Bye, Angus,' yelled Tony. ‘Sorry about the manure!'

The Rare Breed Warriors peered down at the balloon's shadow, drifting harmlessly across the ground below. They raised their heads to the now distant mountain. The sheep-shaped cloud had long since vanished. The star had faded too now, in the bright sunshine. All was well.

‘We's the Eppingham Posse

And our mission is complete,

Cos the Golden Horn Dude

Is back on his feet.

Our shinin' star's back

And the darkness all gone.

Aries got the Baaton,

And now we's goin' home.

We finally done the business

An' our satisfaction's deep.

We chew a lot of cud, man,

Cos we's the Warrior Sheep.'

Join the Rare Breed sheep on their next baaarmy quest!

Turn the page to read the first chapter . . .

T
hey only went into the barn to get out of the rain. But that just goes to show that big adventures can start when you least expect them.

Sheep, even Rare Breed sheep, don't normally mind getting wet but it had been pouring for days and the paddock was hoof deep in mud. Jaycey, the pretty little Jacob, had had enough.

‘Ohmygrass . . .' she said, trotting into the cosy barn. ‘All this rain. I'm having such a bad hair day.'

‘Don't be silly, dear.' said Sal, the fat and motherly Southdown ewe as she followed. ‘Only humans have hair. And there's no such thing as a bad
fleece
day.'

‘That's right, man,' agreed Links, the large Lincoln Longwool ram, even though his own woolly locks were dangling damply in front of his eyes and he couldn't see where he was going. ‘Fleece is cool, innit.'
He bumped into the doorpost on his way in.

Wills, the skinny Welsh Balwin lamb, skipped in after Links. He liked the barn. Usually, there was a laptop in there.

Only Oxo, the great Oxford ram, was reluctant to go inside. The rain made the grass grow longer and sweeter. What was there not to like about that? But he was a sheep and sheep stick together, so he tugged up a last juicy mouthful and squeezed in after the rest.

The hens, who lived in the barn, squawked and fluttered for a few minutes then settled again and the sheep made themselves comfortable on the straw covered floor. They sat facing the laptop, which was propped on a bale of hay in the middle of the barn. Jaycey and Wills, the smallest, were at the front, with Sal, Oxo and Links behind.

The laptop belonged to Ida White, who owned Eppingham Farm where the Rare Breed sheep lived. She often left it in the barn playing music for the hens. This particular wet spring day she was downloading some new tunes for them, some gentle pieces as a change from their usual pop and rock. The second track was just beginning as the sheep settled down.

Wills, whose mother had died when he was young, had spent his early lambhood with Ida and her grandson, Tod, in the farmhouse kitchen. He had learned a lot about human ways and could even read a little. He slowly read out the words on the screen.

‘Sheep May Safely Graze . . . J. S. Bach.'

‘What's J.S. Bach?' asked Oxo, hopefully. ‘Something you can graze on?'

Wills shook his head. ‘No. I think it's the name of the composer. The man who wrote the music.'

‘Shhh,' said Sal. She was gazing happily at the laptop. As the music played, the screen showed a picture of sheep grazing in a beautiful sunlit valley. ‘How fortunate we are to be sheep,' she murmured.

‘Yeah,' agreed Links. ‘But this ain't exactly a banging vibe, is it?' His curls bobbed up and down as he nodded his head, trying to compose a rap. It wasn't easy to make the words fit the slow music.

‘We is Ovis Aries, that's our Latin name,

But you can call us sheep cos it means the same . . .'

Jaycey was also peering at the laptop but she wasn't interested in the music or the pictures. She'd noticed
her own reflection in the screen and was studying it carefully. Finally, she relaxed. Not a bad hair day after all. And she was massively prettier than any of the safely grazing sheep on the screen.

Oxo tried listening to the music for a few seconds but could only hear his own stomachs rumbling so he gave up and dozed off.

Then it happened.

The sheep on the screen disappeared and, from the blackness that replaced them, a red tongue emerged. It filled the screen, showing the rough, red surface and the tonsils dangling behind. Then came the voice.

‘Hi, all you Rams and Ewes and Lambs. This message is for
you
. We're gonna slaughter you. We're on our way. Red Tongue! Remember the name!'

The sheep scrambled to their hooves and looked fearfully around. Oxo marched bravely to the doorway and glared out. The paddock was empty.

The laptop spoke again. ‘Red Tongue! Remember the name!' Then the tongue disappeared and the sunlit valley was back again.

‘Ohmygrass . . .' Jaycey huddled close to Sal. ‘What was that?'

‘I think,' said Wills, ‘it was a pop-up.'

‘What's a pop-up?' asked Oxo.

‘A sort of advertisement,' said Wills, though he didn't really know what an advertisement was.

Oxo lowered his great head and pawed the barn floor with a hoof. ‘Just let him pop up again,' he snorted. ‘I'll be ready next time.'

Sal raised a hoof for silence. ‘Red Tongue . . .? Red Tongue . . .?' She was speaking in the odd voice she used when she was trying to remember something important. ‘Yes . . .' she said at last. ‘It's there in the Songs of the Fleece!'

‘Uh-oh . . .' murmured Links warily.

The Songs of the Fleece were ancient. They had been handed down from ewe to lamb for centuries. Not many sheep knew all 365 verses like Sal did, but most knew a few. Sal looked gravely at her fellow Rare Breeds.

‘Verse 204,' she announced. ‘One of the prophetic verses.' Then she added for Wills' sake, ‘Most of the Songs tell of our glorious history, you see, dear. The prophetic verses tell us what is to come.'

Wills nodded politely. Despite not having had a
mother to teach him sheeply things, he knew that much. He glanced at the laptop again. He felt sure he'd heard Ida say pop-ups were a nuisance. They arrived from nowhere then disappeared again. Just like the red tongue had done.

But Sal was clearing her throat so Wills turned to listen.

‘A terrible monster will come from the West,' she cried dramatically,